


Of Course, You Know, This Means War

by Run_of_the_mill



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Armies of appliances and origami birds, Dr. Riddle is the same kind of stupid as Dr. Dumbledore, Draco dies off-screen, Hermione the E-dictionary, Lucius the Peacock figurine, M/M, Ron the Roomba, Severus the dour vat of clearly toxic waste, Space Station Hogwarts, Tom and Harry are the lone survivors, Tom is a moron, Voldemort the tentacles space Alien who eats people, all out war, which makes Harry Moronsexual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 21:37:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19385125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Run_of_the_mill/pseuds/Run_of_the_mill
Summary: Harry and Tom live alone on a space station. They don't like each other much and like to stay on opposite sides of the space station. They even have a boundary line between their assigned areas and Tom has declared his own side a country that Harry would require a visa to enter. Of course, Harry has never applied for one because, news flash, this isn't a bloody real thing! He's certainly not indulging Tom in this stupid shitHarry and Tom have been going slowly madder with each passing day and have each commandeered specific appliances to act as their armies. For example, Harry has a vacuum cleaner named Ron and an e-dictionary named Hermione. Tom has a Peacock figurine named Lucius and a vat of clearly toxic waste named Severus.Alright. You're probably wondering why they're alone in the space station. Well, that's because of the tentacled monster that they've trapped in the engine room. It killed and ate everyone else before Harry and Tom managed to trap it.Also, Tom affectionately calls it Voldemort.





	Of Course, You Know, This Means War

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aroundloafofbread](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroundloafofbread/gifts), [Anna_Hopkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anna_Hopkins/gifts), [skittykitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skittykitty/gifts), [DarkkBluee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkkBluee/gifts).



> This is a crack fic, pure and simple. No angst here, no siree.

**Day 1 after the Alien invasion** -

  
Harry wiped the blood off his face while Tom leaned against the wall and slid down its length, slowly. He left a large red smear in his wake that Harry was fucking well not cleaning. Not over his dead body! Maybe over Tom's dead body. _That_  could certainly be negotiated.

"They're all fucking dead," said Harry. Tom, who was shaking like a leaf as he came down from his adrenaline high, turned a deadened stare upon him. He nodded and went back to staring out the space station's window.

"Why'd we trap it in the engine room?" asked Tom. "We'll die here if it breaks anything down there."

"I think we were dead the moment it climbed on," said Harry. "This is just delaying the inevitable." Tom glared at him and reached forward to slap him upside the head.

"O. M. G, Harry," said Tom in the most saccharine voice Harry had ever heard from him. It sounded like a cliché cheerleader Queen. "You're so optimistic. You're like totally my hero."

"Wut?" asked Harry raising an eyebrow. "Have you gone off the deep end already?"

"I knew I should've jumped off the ship the moment you climbed on," seethed Tom. "You're a bloody ill omen, you are. Every ship you've ever gotten on has had a bloody issue of some sort." Offended, Harry gasped and made a disgusted face at him.

 _"You're_  the ill omen here, "argued Harry. "You're the one with a track record of being attacked by aliens. The ships I was on only had tiny issues. Like stalled engines and shite like that."

"You know what," sneered Tom, "I don't have to listen to this. I don't have to see you ever again. This station is large enough!" He pulled out a permanent marker from Lord knows where and drew a thin line in the space between him and Harry. "There! You don't cross that line. I don't cross it. We both live very well, very far away from each other."

"That's unfair!" shrieked Harry. "The toilet's on your side!"

"There's one by the engine room," said Tom, smugly. "That's on your side, isn't it? You're welcome to it."

"You little _fuck,"_ hissed Harry. But then, something came to him, like the sun pushing through clouds. He had the upper hand. He smiled wide causing Tom to flinch and frown in discomfort. "The kitchen and the food are on my side." Tom's eyes widened in realisation.

"We need to renegotiate," plead Tom. "I'll let you use the loo!"

"Too late!" grinned Harry, victorious. "Stay in your lane! I'll stay in mine!" He turned around and walked away to find a suitable room. In the distance, Tom kept calling his name.

Sweet revenge.

**Day 20 after the alien invasion-**

  
Harry had been sneaking to the loo when Tom went to bed. He was pretty sure that Tom had been sneaking to the kitchen when Harry was busy in the control room, trying to get the comms back online. (Tom had, inadvertently, ended up giving Harry the larger section of the ship. L. O. L). One morning, Harry was heading out to the control room when he noticed Tom standing at the demarcation line between their two 'nations' (Tom's idea. Not Harry's. Tom was probably already mad.)

"We need to have peace talks," said Tom. He sat down in lotus position and waved to the space before him.

"What peace talks?" wondered Harry. "We aren't even at war." But he still went and sat down in front of Tom.

"More like de-escalation," said Tom. "Before we break into hostile military action."

"You and what army?" scoffed Harry. Tom did not take offense. Instead, he nodded and produced a peacock figurine from his pocket. Harry recognised it as the one Draco had brought from home as a memento of his Dad. Poor Draco torn in half and swallowed down by the monster alien.

"This is Sergeant Lucius," said Tom. Harry blinked several times, overcome by such total confusion, the words wouldn't come out of his mouth. "He's one of many, Harry. I've amassed quite the military might."

"Uhhhh," said Harry, still mightily confused. Sergeant Lucius stared at him meaningfully. Was it alive? The more Harry stared at it, the more he became convinced that it was, indeed, very much alive. And if the peacock was alive, then the rest of Tom's army was probably alive as well.

Fuck! Harry had to make a show of having his own army. It wouldn't do to appear as if he had no way to defend himself. By the window, Harry spotted a roomba vacuuming the floor. He went and picked it up and showed it to Tom.

"Well, meet Sergeant Ron," said Harry, naming it after one of the friends he'd left back in New Earth. Tom blanched and stared at the roomba. Harry could guess why. The roomba had been coming from his side of the ship. "That's right, Tom. He was a spy all along!" A vein seemed to throb in Tom's temple as he stared at the roomba in betrayal.

"You'll pay for this, Roonil Wazlib," huffed Tom. He got up and left, face red in anger.

"Good job, Ron," Harry told the roomba. He set it down and let it go on its merry way, towards the control room. Now, Harry needed to recruit. There was a nice e-dictionary in the Head Researcher's room.

**Day 399 after the alien invasion-**

  
Tom was already standing in position at his end of no-man's land. After a few months, they'd decided it would be necessary to have one if they were to have any sort of negotiation or peace talks. Also, they needed a place for today's specific purposes.

Today was Sex Day.

A few weeks into their isolation, Harry and Tom had found a way to meet most of their basic needs (it involved a lot of stealing on Tom's part and a lot of sneaking on Harry's part). But, now that basic needs were met, they needed to move up Maslow's pyramid. That was why Tom had proposed that, once a month, they meet up in a no-man's land and just... Fuck.

Harry hadn't been too keen on it at the beginning. Especially since Tom categorically refused to switch in bed. Why did Harry have to take it every time?! Then, Harry had spent a few more weeks with nothing but his hand and a few socks and really, Tom's cock and hands had begun to seem very appealing.

It wasn't that they particularly liked each other more than they used to. It was simply that they were both guys and the idea of spending any length of time without sex was abhorrent to the both of them. And, since they were the only two warm bodies on the ship, aside from the alien in the engine room, they needed to have sex with each other.

We won't go into details about Sex Day. Suffice to know that Tom had a thing for banging Harry against walls, there was no mattress involved, very little talk, and Harry always ended up full of cum next to a dried out and satisfied Tom.

"I wish we had condoms," said Harry.

"Mmm," grunted Tom, rolling onto his side so he could cuddle Harry (he liked to cuddle for whatever reason. Harry liked being cuddled by him for whatever reason).

**Day 420 after the alien invasion-**

  
Tom was standing in no-man's land, staring out the window. Next to him was a vat of _clearly_  toxic waste. Harry stared at it in suspicion. Had Tom finally snapped and decided he was going to murder Harry and have the ship to himself? He approached the other man very slowly.

"Ah, Harry!" said Tom when he spotted Harry's reflection in the window. He turned around and clapped his hands. "Let's get down to business, shall we?"

"Wait a second," said Harry when it became clear that Tom was going to slide right over any explanation as to the presence of the vat of toxic waste. He pointed to it and said: "Explain."

"What's to explain?" asked Tom puzzled. "This is Severus. My new military advisor. He's very good at it."

"Oh," said Harry, nodding in comprehension, "hello, Severus." Severus was, obviously, a very dour vat of toxic waste. He did not deign greet Harry back. But, then again, Hermione the e-dictionary had nothing good to say about Tom. So it was nice, Harry supposed, that Tom had someone just as firmly in his corner.

**Day 500 after the alien invasion-**

  
"Voldemort," repeated Harry. Tom nodded and explained that it was French for 'Flight of Death' or something similar. It was clunky French at best, Tom admitted. But it was still a fearsome name. Harry agreed. There could be no better name for the thing in their engine room.

**Day 629 after Voldemort's invasion-**

  
"How are the comms coming along?" asked Tom, that day. Harry had been working on them for almost two years, now. How no one had come for them, yet, was beyond Harry. Did no one wonder what was going on with them?

"Almost fixed," said Harry. "I was missing a few parts, unfortunately. I had to reroute quite a bit of the wiring."

"I don't know what we would do if you hadn't been an engineer," sighed Tom. "For all my degrees, I couldn't tell a chip from a processor."

"The fact that that sentence even came out of your mouth," said Harry, "makes me extremely thankful that I sat on this side, and you, the other." Tom rolled his eyes but, instead of the screaming match he would've initiated two years ago, he settled for a fond smile.

(Unbeknownst to the both of them, it had only been about six months since Voldemort's invasion. This was a very reasonable time, according to New Earth's management, for a research station full of airheaded researchers to not initiate contact. The reason why Harry and Tom both believed it had been two years was because they were measuring time according to the space station's own rotation on itself. The rotations each lasted a little less than five hours. So, of course, they had not even made a dent in the water supply or the food. Really, they should have noticed this fact much earlier. But Tom and Harry, you see, were quite far in their madness, by this point. They _had,_ after all suffered the great trauma of watching all their fellow station-mates being eaten by a tentacled alien.)

**Day 700 (in Tom and Harry Time) after Voldemort's invasion.**

  
Harry and Tom made their way up from the engine room, refusing to meet each other's eyes. They both had to find new suits. The ones they were wearing were positively in tatters. There was no way these suits could continue to preserve their modesties.

"Are you still opposed to being fucked?" asked Harry as Tom was turning to go to his rooms.

"Nuh," said Tom, blushing red and stalking away. He was red all the way down to his chest, which Harry could only see because Voldemort had done quite the number on his suit.

Harry looked forward to the next Sex Day.

**Day 1000 THT, after Voldemort's invasion.**

  
This was war. Harry could not let things slide anymore. Tom was obviously making a move for the kitchen. Harry had spotted Sergeant peaco- Sergeant Lucius standing near the kitchen doors and casing the space. Behind him were a full contingent of origami cranes and swans. This was the entire bird division of Tom's army. Harry was furious.

He consulted with Hermione and, together, they decided that Ron was to lead the cleaning appliance division of Harry's army into war. The vacuum cleaners and mops and brooms and dustpans were up in arms within the hour.

At noon, THT, after a long and tense and, ultimately fruitless, negotiation attempt, Ron launched his first attack. The cleaning appliances followed their leader into battle and they won!

Defeated, Tom and his bird army retreated to his side of the station, no doubt to plan their next course of action. But Harry would think about that later. For, you see, many a mop and dustpan had been lost and they required a proper funeral. Harry was a good general. He would honour them as they deserved.

(Now, at this point, New Earth management was beginning to worry about Space Station Hogwarts. There had been radio silence from it for nearly a year, now. Last time SS Hogwarts had been quiet for a year, Dr. Dumbledore had let a humanoid alien named Grindlewald onto the station and the alien had proceeded to slowly wreck all of the station's comms so that his band of space pirates could come aboard and New Earth would be none the wiser.

It hadn't worked because Dr. Dumbledore had discovered the plot, cracked his favourite vase against Grindlewald's skull, and booted him out of the docking port. The space pirate had not been offered a helmet. New Earth had given Dr. Dumbledore a medal for that decision. Even if he had been the reason for this whole debacle in the first place.

So, now that another year had passed with radio silence from SS Hogwarts, New Earth management was beginning to wonder if Dr. Riddle, Dr. Dumbledore's replacement, hadn't turned out to be the same sort of stupid as his predecessor. Could he have possibly allowed a lethal alien onto the SS Hogwarts? Most of New Earth management was certain that that couldn't be, seeing as Dr. Riddle had seemed quite the opposite of Dr. Dumbledore.

But, some people knew Dr. Riddle personally and those people could have told you that: Yes. Yes, Dr. Riddle was exactly the same kind of stupid as Dr. Dumbledore.

Which, New Earth management discovered, a month later, was regrettably true.)

**Day 1029 THT, after Voldemort's invasion**

  
This was day 29 of the Battle of the Kitchen. (They'd called a truce last week for Sex Day, of course. Even open war could not distract men from sex. Tom had bottomed, that time). Tom had gained some ground. The oven was now in his territory. But the fridge, the stove and the larder remained firmly behind Harry's line. Tom was growing frustrated. (Voldemort had managed to gain access to a surveillance room that had been adjacent to the engine room. He was very much enjoying this whole debacle. Don't worry about him.)

"What will it take," asked Tom, "for you to agree to share the kitchen with me?" He was tired and covered in colourful detergent. Harry, himself, was a mess of paper and paperclips. A few staples had barely missed him and Harry had screamed at Tom to put it down lest he seriously injure one of them.

"Say you're sorry," said Harry. "For stealing the loo. And creating these stupid countries. And demanding for _visa to the loo!"_

"I'm sorry," said Tom. He didn't mean a word of it, obviously. But that was the best Harry would get out of him. So he nodded and Tom began to advance towards the fridge.

"Wait!" said Harry, stopping Tom in his tracks. "I also want you to confess how you feel about me."

"How I feel?" frowned Tom. "What do you mean?" Harry rolled his eyes as if to say 'really?'. He crossed his arms and waited till Tom began squirming and frowning and staring into the distance. Those were his thinking tics, Harry had realised after a few months. The idiot was only now working out how he felt about Harry. Gods help Harry. At length, Tom slapped a fist onto his open palm, a 'eureka' expression on his face and said: "I love you!"

"I love you too," sighed Harry. "I fear that makes me moronsexual." Tom probably didn't understand the term, had never come across it, because he smiled and ran to gather Harry into his arms.

(Two days later, the vessel that New Earth management had dispatched had finally made it to SS Hogwarts. They were ready and expecting some form of danger so, of course, they took care of Voldemort very easily.

Dr. Riddle and Engineer Potter were the only survivors and Lieutenant Longbottom had to report that they'd both gone quite mad. Dr. Granger was the first to have a look at them when they got back to New Earth. She declared that it was mostly cabin fever and some amount of trauma from watching everyone be eaten. She thought that they would probably be back to normal within another year.

Once the year was up and they were both determined to be doing more or less fine, Dr. Riddle was told that he, like Dr. Dumbledore before him, was grounded indefinitely to New Earth. Apparently, he needed to be taught all over again, what went too far in research. His relationship with Engineer Potter continued in spite of the fact that they were both no longer spitting mad. And, within another year, they were married and adopting a particularly vicious dog that they named Voldemort, for the dangerous alien that had brought them together.

It may please you to learn that Dr. Riddle, like Dr. Dumbledore, was never again trusted to head another team of space researchers. Instead, he worked on New Earth, in the same laboratory as Dr. Dumbledore. Harry never heard the end of it, not even when they were both retired and grey and about to die.)

**Author's Note:**

> Questions, comments, insults? This was a one-shot. No plans for a sequel. 〒▽〒


End file.
